


it's a bloodsport

by clarkesquad



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, a very grumpy octavia's pov, basically clexa being grossly in love, but from octavia's pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 16:53:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3699914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarkesquad/pseuds/clarkesquad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Octavia's pretty sure there's nothing going on between Clarke and Lexa past whatever physical relationship they might have.</p><p>Until one of them gets hurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's a bloodsport

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to asmy for coming up with this idea this is pretty much 95% her thoughts in fic form
> 
> extra special shout out to lexa's back tattoo which inspired this but ironically didn't even make it into the fic

If there’s one thing Octavia Blake is getting really tired of, it’s keeping Clarke Griffin’s dirty little secrets.

Tolerating Lexa after what she did is one thing. She’d done it before, after the TonDC bombing. This is something else. This is above the call of duty.

The other seconds look to her. They listen to her. They expect something from her, because she’s proven herself to them. So, when Clarke and the Commander take the frontlines again - Clarke taking her place next to Lexa, like she’s a Commander too, like she belongs there - they look to Octavia. They look to her for some explanation. She knows she’ll never really be trikru, not the way they are. But they don’t see trikru and skaikru, now. Not after the second alliance. The lines started to blend a long time ago, she thinks.

They see Octavia, a friend of Clarke’s.

Octavia, someone to explain how the hell Clarke gets away with giving them orders.

She wouldn’t mind knowing the answer to that herself. Then again, she does know. She knows a little too well.

Octavia steels her gaze and marches on, waiting for the questioning looks to pass.

Like she said, she’s getting really tired of keeping Clarke’s dirty little secrets.

The other warriors shrug among each other and continue to march ahead. She stays in formation, two rows back from Clarke and Lexa. Clarke leans in and whispers something in Lexa’s ear.

Octavia wonders if it’s worth it to get aggravated that Clarke is breaking formation. All things considered, probably not.

She does anyway. Focusing on trivial aggravation is easily a thousand times better than focusing on getting the mental image of Clarke going down on her Commander out of her head. Thanks to _someone_ who is clearly incapable of keeping it in her pants for two minutes while they’re in the middle of a god damn war, that’s easier said than done. Lexa places a hand on Clarke’s back and whispers something back. Octavia snaps her head up towards the trees. She has better things to do while they walk. They’re here on a mission and she can’t do her job unless they find the traitor who has been giving the ice nation information. _Natrona_ , she thinks, as she searches the woods for any sign of movement.

 _Natrona,_ she thinks, doing everything she can to not think about the things Clarke never intended for her to know about her relationship with the Commander who had left her people for dead. Twice.

No, Clarke never intended for her to find out. But does she still want Octavia to keep her secret? Yes _._

_Shocking, she knows._

It’s not that she has any interest in telling anyone. There are certain things she’d rather never describe. Walking in on Lexa and Clarke screwing each other? Definitely one of those things. But she’s not interested in gossip. She’s a damn good warrior and she knows that in the grand scheme of things, it’s none of her business. Even if she feels like it shouldn’t be happening, even if it’s irresponsible, even if she can’t help but feel betrayed. Lexa left her for dead _twice._ Lexa left her people for dead - trikru and skaikru alike.

 _Natrona_ , she thinks, eyeing the way Clarke marches beside Lexa. She doesn’t understand her anymore.

She understands the alliance. The Azgeda are a threat to both trikru and skaikru. Even if it’s complicated and - at times - infuriating, she gets it. They need this second alliance, no matter how hesitant they were to make it.

What she didn’t know was that an alliance apparently meant _fucking the commander_. No, nobody had bothered to explain that part to her until she’d accidentally booked front row seats.

She crushes that mental image like the branches under her feet as she marches ahead. She thinks of anything but Clarke. Anything but Lexa. She thinks of Bellamy and Lincoln and the people she’s fighting for. The reasons she’s here. She doesn’t fight for the Commander. She’s here for the mission, she’s not here for Clarke. She’s here because she takes orders from Lexa, not because she trusts her. She’s here for her brother. For Lincoln. For Raven. For the people of TonDC. For the people who couldn’t be here.

But Lexa is a good commander, she can’t deny her that.

It’s Lexa that sees the first sniper.

She yells an order in trigedasleng, sending the twenty or so warriors around them into action. Octavia doesn’t catch a lot of what happens next. First comes the shouts, then comes the fight.

She raises her weapon and gets her bearings just in time for three men to drop from the trees between her and another grounder. She takes two of them down, the other grounder stabbing the third intruder through the chest. The shouts coming from the grounders sends adrenaline pumping through her veins. Everything she’s learned runs through her mind all at once, same as always.

_Slash, don’t stab._

_Don’t wait to strike._

_Don’t let them get close._

_If they get close, get them on their back._

_No hesitation._

She takes down four more men without even thinking. Animal instinct. They’re nasty fighters, aggressive. Well trained, nothing like the reapers. There’s shouting, slicing, screaming, the sounds of battle and combat filling the air, mixed with a cry from Indra in Trigedasleng.

_Ambush._

They’re not fast enough. She’s not fast enough, Indra isn’t fast enough, nobody is fast enough, and they’re coming at them too quickly. This was a trap, it was always a trap.

There’s a cry from somewhere in the trees. She can’t see her, but she knows it’s Lexa screaming in pain.

Then come the gunshots - fast and relentless. Somewhere, Clarke is unloading round after round into the enemy soldiers. She counts six shots, then a pause, and six more before the fighting stops, the enemy retreating. Octavia stops long enough to recognize the clothing they wear.

Azgeda. The same people who fought alongside them in the war against Mount Weather, the people who turned on them the moment they didn’t need their alliance anymore.

 _Natrona_ , she thinks. The worst kind.

When she finally refocuses on what’s happening in the crowd, she sees Clarke hunched over Lexa. The Commander is on her stomach, and Clarke is ripping the red cloth from her shoulder guard - which in it of itself has to be breaking some kind of crime against the Commander - and handing it to a healer. Lexa has an arrow through her shoulder, and Clarke props her up against her knee. She braces herself before forcing it through the other side and snapping off the head of the arrow.

Lexa doesn’t move, doesn’t even make a sound.

Someone leans in towards Clarke and mentions this, and that’s the very definition of a bad idea. Clarke gives them the kind of look that makes them regret mentioning this, and possibly every other word they’ve ever said in their life. She takes the red cloth and wraps it around Lexa’s shoulder.

“We need to move her.” The warriors watch carefully. Nobody makes a move. “ _Now_ ,” She adds, and the tone of her voice is terrifying enough to move mountains. But Octavia knows that voice. If anyone’s scared, it’s Clarke.

From the look of it, Lexa could be alive or dead. For the sake of the look on Clarke’s face, Octavia hopes she’s only unconscious. She looks like she cares. _Really_ cares. But then again, it’s Clarke. She always cares. Octavia ignores whatever she feels when she sees the way Clarke clings to Lexa’s side as the other healers carry her. She looks almost frantic, shouting orders and leading them through the woods.

She takes them to a bunker and nobody really questions her when she starts to make decisions. Clarke has a way with people like that, especially when she looks as terrified as she does right now.

And that’s how they end up here. Octavia and three other grounders join Clarke and Lexa in the bunker. It’s a small space, contained. Their footsteps echo against the metal floors when they drop from the ladder. Octavia stands back and watches them, standing by Indra’s side. The other two grounders are a healer that she doesn’t recognize and Lexa’s newest bodyguard, a gruff looking man named Rohni. Octavia likes him better than Lexa’s previous bodyguards. He’s probably the biggest man she’s ever met, and his beard is nearly as long as her hair, but he’s sweet. He cares about his people. She almost wishes he wasn’t so willing to take a spear for Lexa, because if she’s being honest, she likes him more.

The four of them watch Clarke now, as she lowers Lexa onto her stomach on a couch and removes what’s left of her armor and shirt. The rest of the warriors wait outside, scouting the area, planning their retreat, choosing their next move. Two of Lexa’s generals took charge already in her absence.

Clarke kneels in front of the couch and she starts to work. She doesn’t let the healer anywhere near Lexa. She doesn’t say anything. She hasn’t calmed down yet, and Octavia can’t remember seeing her anything like this since Finn was stabbed with the poisoned knife. And maybe that should mean something to her, but it’s getting hard to think regularly with the way Clarke is taking over the room. Warriors are supposed to stay calm, warriors are supposed to be relaxed, they’re not supposed to be worried about what they can’t control, but Clarke is no warrior. Clarke is a healer. Clarke is a caretaker. Clarke is _crying_ , and she’s not even trying to hide it. It affects everyone in the bunker, even Indra, always a constant to Octavia before now. Now, she locks her jaw and watches Clarke work over Lexa’s unconscious body, and Octavia realizes that the very real possibility of Lexa being dead must be far more impacting than she thinks.

Clarke’s hands shake as she unwraps the wound on Lexa’s shoulder and pushes back Lexa’s hair. Lexa has a head wound - a gash across her temple, easily a concussion, if not worse. Clarke gasps when she pushes back the rest of Lexa’s shirt to reveal a gash across her back. It’s a knife wound, and a deep one. Octavia can feel the tension in the air, she could slice right through it with a blade. Clarke’s fear is tangible. And she’s felt it before. Most warriors have. She can feel how scared Clarke is, and she wants Lexa to live now, if only to stop the panicked, shallow breaths coming from Clarke.

“Wake up, Lexa. Wake up, you have to wake up for me, okay? I don’t- I’m not gonna know what happened to your head until you wake up. I didn’t see what happened, I wasn’t looking.” She shakes her head and ducks down to look at the floor. “I wasn’t looking. You have to wake up.”

She can hear Clarke crying, and Clarke is like her in so many ways, especially this one. She never cries in front of people if she can’t help it. But this feeling, this is one Octavia knows well enough. Clarke allows herself a painful sob and then suddenly Octavia is back there. In the dropship. Leaning over Lincoln’s lifeless body, begging for him to wake up. Begging for him to come back. It’s a feeling nobody deserves to feel, and then it hits her, just as Clarke says it.

“I love you, you stupid piece of-” She slams her hand down on the arm of the sofa and shakes her head. “Don’t you dare be dead right now. Not now, not like this. Not when I haven’t even told you. You have to _wake up_!”

After a painfully silent minute, Lexa blinks herself back into consciousness and Octavia lets out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding.

Clarke springs into action. “Lexa. Lexa, hey.” Her voice softens instantly. “Hey there. I knew you were too stubborn to die.” She laughs around her tears and even Octavia finds herself smiling. “How do you feel?”

Lexa barely manages to speak. It’s only because the bunker is dead silent that Octavia can hear her. “I’ve had worse. It’s just pain.”

Clarke leans forwards to press a kiss to her forehead. She runs a hand through Lexa’s hair and then presses a kiss to her shoulder. Both Rohni and the healer tense up, clearly uncomfortable. Clarke doesn’t seem to care. She allows herself a few more moments of comforting Lexa before she pushes herself away from the couch, bracing her hands on her knees and taking in a shaky breath. She brushes tears away from her eyes and then stills herself.

It’s almost fascinating to watch, the way that Clarke can compartmentalize in these situations. She’s seen Abby do it before, she’s even seen Bellamy pull it off, but nobody does it quite like Clarke.

She stands up and turns to the healer.

“The wounds are too big. We have nothing to bandage them with. If we use our clothes, they could get infected. I’m not sure if it’s septic, but chances are they aren’t. We need a small fire, one of the torches will do. Heat a blade for me.”

The healer nods, and Clarke clenches her fists before placing a knee on the edge of the couch and gripping what’s left of the arrow. “Lexa, I need to pull this out so we can seal the wound.”

She nods against the couch. “Do it.”

Octavia looks to Indra when she does it, trying to block out the cry of pain from her Commander. Indra is nothing but a statue, her attention entirely focused on Lexa.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s out, you’re fine.” Clarke presses her hand against the open wound to stop the bleeding and drops the shaft of the arrow. “Blade. Now.”

The healer hands her a knife with an orange tip.

“Lexa, I’m sorry, this is gonna hurt.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Clarke grips the knife and steels herself before pressing it firmly to the wound. It’s punctuated by a scream from Lexa, and Octavia watches as Clarke’s mask crumbles. This is killing her.

 _Really_ killing her.

That’s what it takes, in the end. The look on Clarke’s face as she tries to reassure Lexa. The way she strokes Lexa’s hair. The way her hands shake and she does what she can not to cry. That’s what it takes for Octavia to really see it.

She would laugh at herself if she didn’t feel like such an ass.  They haven’t been subtle about it. All the longing looks and casual touches. She’d written off their relationship as purely physical. She’d been no better than the people who had nicknamed her _the Grounder Pounder_.

Later, when her palms aren’t sweating and she can’t feel her pulse in her throat over the sounds coming from both Clarke and Lexa, she’ll have to take the time to find it funny that their heartless Commander fell in love. She’s not so different from anyone else.

But for now, Clarke deserves more than what she’s given her so far. When Octavia had fallen for Lincoln, she’d known. She had known he was worth trusting, even if it was nothing but a gut feeling. She’d asked for people to understand. When Lexa reaches out to grip Clarke’s hand, she decides she can extend the Commander that same courtesy.

For Clarke.

Lexa’s cries die down after a few moments, and Clarke shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, we have to do it again. You have a cut and it’s too deep to leave open.” Lexa shakes her head desperately, but it does nothing to change Clarke’s mind. “Lexa, we have to, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, I know it hurts. Just one more time.”

Octavia leans over just enough to see past Clarke. Lexa grits her teeth presses her face into the couch, muffling a moan.

“Hey, it’s just pain, right? It’s just pain, you’ve got this.”

Lexa nods.

“Just one more time.” Clarke holds her hand out for the blade again. Octavia hadn’t noticed, but the healer must have heated it again, because it’s even brighter now. Clarke’s hands shake when she brings the blade to hover over Lexa’s back.

Octavia steps forward. “Let me do it.”

“What?”

“You’re shaking. You take Lexa duty, I’ll heal the wound.”

She’s torn for half a moment, and then Clarke gives in, handing her the blade. She slumps down in front of the couch to lean her forehead against Lexa’s “Okay, give me your hand. One more time. We’ll do this on three, okay?”

She gives Octavia a pointed look and Octavia nods.

“Alright, one...”

Octavia brings the blade down on the gash. She presses it against her skin firmly, burning her skin while Lexa cries out. She holds it down for one beat, then two, and then it’s done and Lexa squeezes her eyes shut and barely manages to croak out, “Do they not teach sky people how to count properly, Octavia?”

Clarke laughs and smooths down her hair again. “Element of surprise, right?”

Octavia falls back against the wall of the bunker and Clarke leans up against the couch, hugging her knees to her chest. Octavia can see the adrenaline leaving her body. “You can relax now, okay? You can just rest. The hard part’s over now. You did good. You did really good.” Clarke wipes the tears from Lexa’s face before Lexa can even acknowledge them and for just a moment, they look like a regular couple, or whatever that even means on the ground. Like two girls in love. Two girls without the weight of the world on their shoulders. Two girls who aren’t in charge of entire armies. Just two girls.

And yeah. Octavia still feels like an ass.

Lexa’s eyes flutter shut with a smile on her face. She squeezes Clarke’s hand.

“I love you, too.”

“I thought I’d lost you for a second there. Don’t ever do that to me again, you hear me?”

Lexa nods just before she falls asleep.

 

Lexa floats in and out of consciousness for hours. Octavia can sense the others getting restless. Indra is anxious to avenge the harm that the Azgeda inflicted. Clarke refuses to let anyone else touch Lexa once she heals what she can of her head wound and covers the rest of her flesh wounds. She tells them it’s the head wound that she’s worried about. Anything else should heal without a hitch. But she needs doctors for the head wound. She needs ark medicine. The grounder healer is equal parts restless and bored. Rohni already took to a chair just over an hour ago.

Octavia almost laughs. Being locked under a floor for sixteen years sucked, but it had it’s advantages in the long run. Her patience is unparalleled. A few hours in a bunker is nothing.

After another hour or so, Indra joins the warriors outside of the bunker, taking the healer with her.

Rohni stays. He has his orders.

Octavia stays. She has Clarke.

She chooses a spot in the corner of the bunker and toys with her knife to pass the time.

Lexa wakes up again with a gasp, and after some pushing from Clarke, she accepts a drink of water from a canteen. Lexa sighs, shutting her eyes again. “Nou get yu daun hashta ai, Clarke.”

“I don’t-” She shakes her head, struggling to translate.

Octavia pushes herself up from the wall and bends down on one knee next to Clarke by the couch. Rohni is asleep now, so she whispers. “She said not to worry about her.”

Clarke sniffles a little. She’s not crying anymore, just recovering. “Idiot.” She pushes back some of the hair that had fallen in Lexa’s face. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

They don’t get a response to that. Lexa’s already fallen asleep.

Octavia claims a spot on the floor next to Clarke and crosses her legs underneath her.

“Clarke... she’ll be fine.”

She shakes her head. “I’ve never seen someone fall the way she did. You didn’t see it. You didn’t see her just... crumble. I’ve seen so many head wounds. I didn’t know if she’d ever wake up.”

“She did, that’s what matters. You got her through it.” Octavia shrugs. “And it’s good you did, too, ‘cause if I had to do that without you talking her through it, I’m pretty sure I would have lost a hand.”

Clarke smiles, absentmindedly stroking Lexa’s hair with the hand propped against the arm of the couch. Her smile doesn’t last long enough. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough for this.”

“For what?”

Clarke shakes her head. “I don’t know. War. Love. Her.”

“Clarke, c’mon. If you can’t handle it, then we’re all screwed.”

She fidgets with the end of one of Lexa’s braids. “When did you start being nice to me again?”

Octavia sighs, kicking her legs out from underneath her and leaning against the front of the couch. “I’m being a bigger person. ‘Bout time, I think.” She almost doesn’t say it, but as an afterthought, she adds, “You didn’t tell me you love her.”

“I didn’t even tell _her_.”

Octavia nods. “I still don’t trust her.”

“ _I_ don’t even trust her.”

They both laugh softly, making sure not to wake up Lexa or Rohni.

“Fair enough.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> this was actually super fun to write ok
> 
> follow me @ clarkesquad.tumblr.com


End file.
